


The Water of the Leaf Drips on Worn Stone and Not Metal

by NeurotropicAgentX



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bizarre Alien Language, Dubious Consent, F/F, Fuck Or Die, Oral Sex, Rare Pair, Speciesism, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7095664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/pseuds/NeurotropicAgentX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phasma is exposed to a poison while alone on a diplomatic mission. The only known antidote is sex with a Force-sensitive. Phasma honestly can't decide if having sex with the Resistance's pet Jedi is worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Water of the Leaf Drips on Worn Stone and Not Metal

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from [this](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=9641849#cmt9641849) prompt from the TFA kinkmeme. Also takes some inspiration from [this](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1082.html?thread=109370#cmt109370) one too. Obligatory shout out to my wonderful editor.

Phasma stamped down her irritation for the third time that day. Negotiations were crawling and now the ruling council, if you could even call this collection of ‘revered elders’ something that official, were demanding she take part in their backwards little celebrations. At least, that’s the impression she got with the aid of her translator. 

The most frustrating thing about this particular species of beasts was their horribly axiomatic language. ‘Revered elders’ directly translated into something like ‘the many leaves and branches passed over by the sun’. Her translator flawlessly decoded each individual word, but the sense was often incoherent. She was forced to rely on her own imperfect knowledge of the language. Not for the first time, Phasma regretted taking xeno-languages back at the academy. It was the reason she’d been assigned to this mind-numbing diplomatic mission in the first place. 

Phasma thanked the elders as graciously as she could for the invitation to the celebration. She suspected that her grasp of the language made her sound like a child to them. She suspected they were too polite to do anything other than humour her, which made it worse. At least going to their little feast-day, or whatever it was, would help negotiations run smoother and hopefully get her off this dirt-ball sooner.

///

Phasma was wrong. The worst thing about the festival was not the fact that almost all the ugly piping language of these sub-humans went over her head. No, the worst thing was that she was obliged to take part in the feast, which necessitated her going without her helmet. She felt exposed and remained keenly aware of the fact that one well-placed blaster bolt would be all it would take to kill her.

Her hosts were entirely oblivious to her stress. They kept repeating terms that were subtle variations on ‘honoured guest’. At least that was what she gleaned about ‘river/road branching droplets converging in sunlight’. Sunlight often featured in their positive statements. 

The feast was set up outside in the dappled shade cast by their strange flora. Phasma sat at a rough-hewn wooden table that one of her hosts directed her to, thankfully without words. She tried not to flinch when one of the aliens laid something on her head. It was a flower crown. About a third of the aliens were wearing them. Phasma scowled to herself and wistfully thought of her helmet lying back in her ship. 

She picked up an elongated fork that was more compatible with the aliens’ frills than a standard hand and started poking morosely at her plate of food. Admittedly, it was better fare than the rations back on the _Finalizer_. It was just a shame that she was eating under these circumstances. 

‘Oh kriff this,’ a perfectly human voice called out. Phasma’s hand went to her blaster automatically as she turned to face the newcomer.

It was another human, also wearing a flower crown. Phasma took in the practical garments, the fighter’s grace in her stance, and the metal cylinder clipped to the wide belt. 

‘Oh, it’s the Resistance’s pet Jedi. I was wondering if this day could possibly get any worse,’ Phasma said. ‘At least it’s not raining, I suppose.’

Rey narrowed her eyes. ‘What are you doing here? Aren’t you a bit high-ranked to be here all by yourself, _Captain_.’

‘So you’d think,’ Phasma muttered. ‘I’m here on this backwater primitive shithole because I’m the only one who speaks the language. So I get to make nice with the local beasts and maybe get some concessions about supply export. This place isn’t even worth the force it would take to crush.’

Rey stared at her. ‘Well I’m just here for the aphelion festival,’ she said.

Phasma snorted. ‘No you’re not, Resistance scum. You’ve got a mission here as much as I do.’

Rey’s hand had moved to the hilt of her lightsaber during the conversation, but she took a deep breath and deliberately relaxed her grip. ‘Well none of this really matters right now. The seating arrangement’s been set, so how about we ignore each other for the rest of this feast. I suppose a First Order captain can pretend to be civilised for that long.’

‘Civilised? Doesn’t the Resistance live out of makeshift bases in disconnected cells with almost no formal hierarchy or command structure? Don’t talk to me about being “civilised”, you terrorist.’

Rey’s expression tightened again, but she sat down without another word and started eating her food. Phasma was grudgingly impressed at the control, especially when she turned to the host on her other side and said something in their language that Phasma’s translator could barely parse. 

It was scraping against Phasma’s nerves to be sitting next to a Force user. Even if she had been wearing her full armour, their Force-tricks could overpower even the strongest soldier. Phasma’s grip on her fork tightened. There was nothing she could do right now and as galling as it was, the best thing would be to try and take the Jedi’s advice.

///

Rey had managed to mostly tune out Phasma’s presence. Her hosts were charming and the shade was welcome during the thick humidity of the day. More importantly, the food was excellent and plentiful. Rey piled her plate high with the various foods on offer. Some combinations weren’t great, but many worked really well and tasted even better than the stuff at the Resistance base or the food she’d gathered off the land when she’d trained with Luke.

Between mouthfuls she talked with her hosts. She’d rarely had the chance to speak this language since leaving Jakku and she’d missed the lilting, piping syllables. Besides, half the fun was in constructing the appropriate imagery to convey meaning. 

She’d told two jokes of her own invention that none of her hosts had heard before. They relied on the similar pronunciation of ‘sunlight’ and a certain part of the hosts’ lifefrills. It probably wasn’t the most appropriate joke over for a festival, but the fluting laughter suggested it was well received.

The laughter cut off abruptly and was replaced by sounds of concern and distress, centred on Phasma. Rey’s hand flew to her lightsaber, but there was no threat. Phasma was holding one of the stone cups and looking perturbed at the change in the hosts’ demeanours. 

‘Urgh, their language is so imprecise, even my translator is having trouble with it. What is this Bantha shit about “the water of the leaf drips on worn stone and not metal”?’ she asked Rey.

‘Roughly translated it means don’t drink anything from the stone cups.’ Rey scowled at the First Order captain, resisting the urge to slap the cup out of her hand. The damage had already been done.

Rey was grudgingly impressed when Phasma calmly spat into the cup without giving any outward signs of distress. ‘Is it poisonous?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Worse.’

Their hosts were now shaking their sidefrills in agitation. 

‘Okay, what’s a “liferite” and why are they looking at you? And how could it be _worse_ than poison?’ Phasma asked.

Rey sighed. ‘The drink is made from the blood of a species of Force-nullifying lizard, mixed with certain nectars that alter the effects.’

‘The short answer being?’

‘For Force-sensitives and the locals it’s a mild drug. For someone as Force-null as you it’s a slow acting poison that’s going to kill you.’

‘So it isn’t worse than a poison, it just _is_ a poison.’

Rey was once again struck by how well Phasma was taking this. There wasn’t a hint of fear in her tone or expression.

‘It’s worse because there’s only one antidote and I really don’t want to provide it.’

‘Whatever it is, you’re going to give it to me,’ Phasma said in low voice that did nothing to mask the implied threat. 

‘Oh, you’re going to wish you hadn’t said that. The antidote is sex with a Force-sensitive and all of theirs are on a pilgrimage for the festival.’ Of course Rey _was_ actually here for a Resistance mission. That meant she couldn’t let Phasma die here, or it would risk the relationship she’d been building with the Elders. Being Force-sensitive was meant to have been an advantage to the diplomatic process on this planet. Now it just meant she was backed into a corner.

Something flickered across Phasma’s expression at the explanation, but it was gone before Rey could parse it. ‘How do you know all this?’ Phasma asked.

‘Some of us bothered learning more than a three-year-old’s version of the language before we came.’

Phasma scowled. ‘Are you sure there’s only one antidote?’

Rey sighed, thinking wistfully of a better solution to the situation. ‘Yes. And don’t worry, I’m not about to let you die like this.’ She crossed her arms. Aside from wanting to avoid a diplomatic incident, Rey wasn’t about to watch someone die from blood-nectar poisoning, even if they were an enemy. 

In any case, she’d heard of Captain Phasma’s reputation for honourable dealings. Phasma appeared to have an old-fashioned warrior’s code. As far as genocidal First Order fanatics went, she was unlikely to try and kill Rey in the middle of sex. Probably. In many ways it could have been much worse.

‘Come on,’ said Rey. ‘I have a room in the main compound. Our hosts are deeply concerned about you and won’t mind us leaving.’ She looked over at the table of elders and gave them a few words of reassurance. She looked down at the food on her plate reluctantly and grabbed the most portable looking item before standing up.

‘They gave you a room?’ Phasma asked. 

‘Well, yes. Did they not give you one?’

Phasma’s fists clenched. ‘I prefer to sleep on my ship.’

‘No wonder you got a blue flower-crown,’ Rey said, amused.

Phasma’s gaze flicked up to Rey’s purple flower-crown. She opened her mouth and Rey could see her struggle not to ask the question. ‘Let’s just go to your room,’ Phasma said. She stood up stiffly, with military posture, and Rey took the lead in the trip back to her room. 

Rey’s room was luxurious. There was a large bed with soft covers and a blanket. There were two chairs _and_ a little table that had some carvings on the legs. Even better was the adjoining fresher that use water rather than sonic power for dirt-removal. The hosts had been very generous. She put her food down on the table.

After that, Rey crossed over to the bed. She hesitated for a long moment before setting her lightsaber aside. Having a weapon during sex was asking for trouble, and even unarmed, she still had the advantage of the Force. Her control had been steadily increasing with her training and if the situation became one of life and death, she would have the clear advantage. With that in mind, she started undressing.

Rey just wanted to get this over and done with. Mingling the energies of the Living Force in her Force signature with Phasma’s Force-null signature would neutralise the effects of the blood-nectar. Sex was the only way to do that fast enough. It wasn’t optimal, but Rey had enough experience with less-than-optimal situations that this one barely mattered to her. She reminded herself again that it could have been a lot worse.

Instead of getting undressed like Rey, Phasma was pacing a tight circle in the centre of the room. Her strong jaw was clenched and sweat was dampening the hairline of her severely cropped hair.

‘You know, the armour is going to have to come off at some point,’ Rey said.

Phasma stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the room, clenching and unclenching her fists. ‘Fine,’ she hissed. She started disengaging the various clasps and seals, peeling off her plating a piece at a time. 

Rey watched her out of the corner of her eye. She told herself it was because she needed to know if Phasma was going to try something, but at least a part of her was watching appreciatively as Phasma’s considerable musculature was revealed. 

The pile of metal at Phasma’s feet grew until she was standing in nothing but her under-armour bodysuit. There was a hard look in her eyes, something between determination and distrust. Rey finished stripping down completely and straightened up to face Phasma. 

‘Are you going to take the rest of it off?’ Rey asked. She’d found out about just how strongly the nudity taboos ran in ‘civilised space’, but they were about to have sex, after all.

Phasma crossed her arms. ‘There’s really no other way,’ she said. It wasn’t a question, but there was an odd plaintive note in her voice that bothered Rey.

‘Look, I’m no more happy about it than you are, but we can fuck, wash up and go our separate ways. I won’t mention this ever if you don’t,’ Rey pointed out reasonably. 

Phasma flinched at the word ‘fuck’. Rey frowned. ‘Are you… okay?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ Phasma growled. There was a pause. ‘No. Just. Kriff, why did it have to be an enemy, a fucking _Jedi_ of all people.’

‘Excuse me?!’ 

Phasma ran a hand through her hair and let out a long breath. ‘I haven’t ever… done this. You’re going to have to…’ She made a vague gesture. ‘Can’t we just let the poison run its course? I’ve survived some pretty bad injuries. I could probably survive this.’

Rey stared at Phasma for a long moment. ‘It’s blood-nectar and you’re a Force-null human. It _will_ kill you, guaranteed. Have you really never had sex?’

Phasma’s scowl deepened further. With no further warning she started tugging off her bodysuit. ‘Let’s just get it over with and if you try anything, I will kill you,’ said Phasma. 

Rey finally managed to detect the threads of fear running through the Force. It was subtle and only reverberated close to Phasma’s form, but it was there. In any other situation, Rey would have responded to the threat with one of her own, but not here, not now. ‘I won’t try anything,’ she said. ‘If I wanted you dead, I’d have just waited.’

Phasma nodded. ‘Okay. Fine. You’ll need to… to explain things.’ Phasma’s reluctance was really getting to Rey. She’s seen people on Jakku who had been forced into terrible situations and often there’d been nothing she could do. It was hard to reconcile a brutal enemy captain with a woman who was plainly distressed with the idea of sex under the threat of death.

Rey nodded and slowly walked over while Phasma dropped her bodysuit to the floor. Phasma tensed, but made no other move at Rey’s approach. Every part of her body was heavy and muscular. It wasn’t the whipcord-strength that Rey’s staff-fighting had cultivated, but rather a raw power that filled out her frame. 

Rey placed one hand on the side of Phasma’s face. ‘Kiss me,’ she said.

Phasma sucked in a harsh breath. ‘I don’t see how that’s necessary.’

‘Who’s explaining things to who?’ Rey asked with a raised eyebrow. The kissing wasn’t necessary, per se, but in her experience it was the quickest way to ease a partner into sex. If they had compatible mouthparts, of course. 

Phasma blinked. ‘Don’t remind me,’ she said, but she bent her head and pressed her lips against Rey’s. It was clear that she had no experience with this. Her lips were tense and unmoving, as if she’d heard about kissing in abstract, but never seen it done. Her eyes were open and narrowed with distrust. 

Rey breathed out lightly through her nose and let her eyes slide shut. She softened her lips and let them glide across Phasma’s. She teased lightly, flicking her tongue against Phasma’s lower lip and trying to coax her to reciprocate. After a long moment Phasma started copying the movements and responding. Rey sucked on Phasma’s lower lip and earned a muffled gasp. She opened her eyes. 

‘Shall we go over to the bed?’ Rey asked. ‘I’m getting kind of tired of standing on tiptoe.’

Phasma looked down at her. ‘Fine.’ She marched over to the bed and sat with her back to the wall. She folded her arms over her breasts and looked over at Rey with one eyebrow raised. The bravado was almost convincing except for the fear that bled continually into the Force. 

Rey walked toward Phasma and settled on the bed. Her movements stayed nice and slow and she was very careful not to do anything unexpected. It was just like passing through the territory of a wraid. They wouldn’t attack if you didn’t show aggression first. 

‘Let me kiss you again?’ Rey asked. 

Phasma blinked and slowly uncrossed her arms. ‘Okay.’

Rey took a risk and tapped Phasma on her knee. ‘Spread your legs so I can get closer?’ she asked. 

Phasma stared for a long moment before jerking her legs apart. Challenge radiated from her with every movement. That was better than fear, at least. Rey knelt between Phasma’s legs and kissed her again. Apart from an initial hesitation, Phasma had picked up the technique and managed to copy Rey’s movements almost exactly. She didn’t deviate from anything that Rey had shown her, not trying to experiment or push for control. 

Rey drew back for a breath. ‘Okay, we need to get each other off. It’s the quickest way to blend Force-signatures so mine can draw away the energy of the blood-nectar.’

Phasma nodded, tight-lipped. ‘I assume it will be similar to masturbation. Just on a different body,’ she said. Her inflection hinted that it was a question, even as she tried to keep her tone assured.

Rey nodded, relived that at least she didn’t have to talk the First Order captain through her first orgasm. ‘Yes, basically like masturbation. Though…’ Rey shook her head. There was no need to complicate things. 

‘What?’

Rey hesitated, but the idea was right there and it might help, maybe. ‘I could use my mouth on you, if you’d like. It can be good, though different from what you might be used to.’

Phasma’s gaze flicked to Rey’s lips and back up again. It didn’t seem like a conscious action on her part. ‘Why do I think having your teeth that close to me is a good idea? You’re an _enemy_ for kriff’s sake.’ She seemed to be mostly talking to herself. The suggestion had sent a surge of arousal through the Force and Rey was glad that at least that feeling was mutual. It made things easier.

Rey shrugged. ‘I’m an enemy, but I already said I wasn’t going to try anything. Besides, you wouldn’t be the first person to like a hint of danger.’

Phasma growled something under her breath. ‘Okay. Do it and just. Just remember that you may have the Force, but I move quickly and it wouldn’t take much to snap your pretty neck.’

Rey bared her teeth in a smile. ‘I’m glad you think my neck’s pretty. But if you try anything, it won’t be me that kills you.’ 

Phasma gave a grudging smile at that and leaned back against the wall just slightly. That was probably going to be the extent of her relaxing. Giving into the impulse, Rey let her hand trail down Phasma’s shoulder and across the swell of her biceps. The muscle was hard and tense beneath her hand. 

‘Nice,’ Rey said, surprised to find her voice a little hoarse. 

Phasma raised an eyebrow. ‘Thanks.’ She reached out hesitantly and ran her hand down Rey’s arm, mirroring the gesture. 

Rey took hold of Phasma’s wrist, carefully not making the gesture threatening and brought the hand up to her face. She kissed the palm. Phasma’s breath hitched and she stared at Rey. 

‘We can go slow,’ said Rey. ‘If you don’t like something, just tell me to stop.’

Phasma’s gaze flicked away from Rey’s eyes. ‘I’ll keep that in mind. Let’s get this over with.’

Rey nodded and initiated another kiss. This time she drew back from Phasma’s mouth and pressed light kisses against her strong jaw and then the line of her neck. Phasma hissed between her teeth at the first touch of Rey’s lips on her throat. She grabbed a handful of Rey’s hair, but didn’t push her away.

‘That should feel like a threat,’ Phasma gasped.

Rey drew back slightly. ‘Should I stop?’

Phasma’s grip in her hair tightened. ‘ _No_.’

Rey smiled against Phasma’s neck and ran her tongue over one of the straining tendons. The noise she got in response sent heat coiling through her body. She moved lower, kissing along the rise of Phasma’s breast where it overlaid her firm pectoral. When Rey’s tongue flicked over Phasma’s hardening nipple, she yelped and arched upward against Rey’s mouth. Rey stroked a hand over Phasma’s ribs and palmed her other breast, rolling the nipple between her fingers. Phasma twisted and her free hand clenched in the bedcovers. 

‘This isn’t what I expected,’ Phasma managed to grit out between her clenched teeth.

‘Good?’ Rey asked, raising her head to look at Phasma’s face. There was a flush of arousal deepening the colour of her face and Rey felt inordinately smug.

‘Indulgent,’ Phasma said. She paused for a moment. ‘But good. Yes.’

Rey stroked her hands down Phasma’s sides and shifted backwards on the bed to give herself more space. She leaned down and balanced with one hand planted on Phasma’s thigh. The muscle didn’t give at all. The new position gave her excellent access and she placed a soft kiss high on the inside of Phasma’s other thigh. Phasma’s breathing grew heavier. Rey rubbed gently at Phasma’s labia before circling her clitoris with her free hand. She looked up to find Phasma staring down at her with wide eyes. Rey held the intense gaze and ran her tongue over Phasma in one broad sweep, flicking against her clitoris before pulling away. 

Phasma’s head thudded back against the wall and her thighs twitched as she fought the instinct to close her legs. 

Rey pulled back. ‘Too much?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Phasma said hastily. ‘Just different. Can you go a little slower?’

Rey nodded, her expression serious. ‘Sure.’ She brought her hand back and rubbed soothingly. Then she flattened Phasma’s pubic hair and pressed her tongue against the flushed, slick skin of her folds. Phasma’s reaction was less dramatic this time so Rey worked her tongue slowly, enjoying the musky human taste and blood-warm skin. Her thumb played absently against Phasma’s clit and each pass drew a soft, breathy sound from the First Order captain.

‘You can go harder,’ Phasma said after a moment. ‘I need, I need more pressure, I think.’

Rey hummed an affirmative noise and was pleased at the way it made Phasma’s breath catch. She moved her hand lower and stroked in a more pointed manner. ‘Is this okay?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

Rey slid a slim finger into Phasma. She was hot and slick. At the first touch she twitched hard at the intrusion. Rey paused. 

‘Don’t stop,’ Phasma demanded. 

Rey crooked her finger and pressed in short rhythmic movements. She added a second finger to get better leverage and was gratified at the way it made Phasma moan. Then she bent back down and tongued Phasma’s clit. She was rewarded with a hoarse cry and Phasma’s hands fisting in her hair to pull her down harder. Phasma was chanting a litany of pleas and the occasional threat. The word ‘Jedi’ was snarled several times. 

Rey sucked at her clit and pressed deeply with her fingers. Every muscle in Phasma’s body tensed as she came and she clamped down hard around Rey’s fingers. She made a noise like she’d just been shot and her fists clenched in Rey’s hair. Then all that coiled power slackened just as suddenly.

Phasma looked down at her and blinked, a glazed look in her eyes. Her chest rose and fell with her harsh breaths and she didn’t let go of Rey for a long moment. When she did finally let go, Rey wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and backed off to give Phasma some space. It didn’t take long before Phasma’s gaze focused on her properly. She wet her lips. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

Rey nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ‘You’re welcome.’

Phasma shifted where she sat. ‘This isn’t over, is it?’ It wasn’t really a question. ‘I don’t think I was paying the right sort of attention to return the favour.’

Rey shrugged. The most important part was the intent alongside the skin-to-skin contact for the mingling of signatures in the Living Force. Rey could always supplement whatever Phasma ended up doing.

‘However,’ Phasma continued, ‘I have had a lot of practice with other things.’ She motioned for Rey to sit between her legs. ‘If you’re brave enough to turn your back to me, I have an idea.’

Rey barked a laugh and settled between Phasma’s strong thighs, pressing back against her firm chest. ‘I like the way you think.’

‘Good,’ Phasma said. Her breath stirred the hairs beside Rey’s ear and the sound was surprisingly intimate this close. Rey shivered. Phasma ran one large hand up Rey’s thigh and her callused fingertips brushed against the sensitive folds of her labia. 

Rey tilted her head back to rest against Phasma, heedless of the way it exposed the line of her throat. Phasma’s other hand came up to fondle one of Rey’s breasts. Rey made a noise in the back of her throat. ‘Come on,’ she said breathlessly.

With no preamble, Phasma slid one of her fingers into the slick heat of Rey’s body. Her thumb pressed gently against Rey’s clit and stroked in lazy circles. Rey gasped, her hips rising to meet Phasma’s hand. ‘Good?’ Phasma asked. She couldn’t quite disguise the pensive note in her voice.

‘Yes. Faster, come on,’ Rey said. She was close to begging for more friction and force.

Phasma sped up, crooking her fingers and pressing up hard against Rey from the inside. Rey moaned at the sudden increase in pressure. It was harder than what she usually managed on her own and absolutely perfect.

‘Yes, yes, just like that, please!’

Phasma smiled against the side of Rey’s neck. ‘That’s how I like to touch myself,’ she said, biting gently at Rey’s pulse. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised you can take a bit of force. You’re strong for someone so scrawny. A fighter.’

Rey was flattered despite herself. ‘You’re a lot more confident with this,’ she said.

Phasma’s answering laughter resonated warmly through her chest. ‘This is a much less vulnerable position. At least, for me.’

Rey was finding it hard to string a coherent sentence together. The pressure of Phasma’s fingers never eased up for a moment. Usually Rey’s wrist would be getting tired by now, especially at this angle. Phasma was unrelenting and didn’t speed up even as Rey approached her peak. The steady, inexorable pace was drawing hot pleasure down her spine. She writhed, but Phasma just held her tighter. 

‘Give it up, Jedi,’ Phasma murmured.

Rey’s hips rocked against Phasma’s hand and she clenched down hard against those rough fingers. ‘Fuck!’ she swore as pleasure surged through her core, lighting up her nerves and nearly whiting out her vision. The Force surged with her, drawing out the sensations and nearly overwhelming her.

Bit by bit she came back to herself, fitting together the pieces of her awareness. Phasma was stroking the inside of her thigh with one damp hand. Rey doubted she was doing it consciously.

The Force thrummed around them and Rey closed her eyes as she reached out. Her signature and Phasma’s had mingled and the blood-nectar was dissipating harmlessly from her body. ‘It’s done,’ Rey murmured without opening her eyes. ‘You’re going to be fine.’

Phasma shifted on the bed, rustling the covers. ‘This changes nothing, Jedi.’

Rey opened her eyes and moved back to her end of the bed, turning to face Phasma. ‘I know. Captain.’

Phasma wasn’t meeting her eyes. ‘But thank you. You could have just let me die from my own foolish mistake. And you could have made all this,’ here she made an awkward gesture encompassing the bedroom, ‘a lot worse. You have honour.’

‘I have basic decency,’ Rey corrected. She was silent for a long moment before she spoke again. ‘Have you ever considered leaving the First Order?’

Phasma gave a harsh laugh. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. The First Order is going to sweep through this galaxy and unite it, just like the old Empire. Your Resistance is going to be crushed.’

Rey blinked, surprised by the vitriol. She got off the bed and made her way to the ’fresher, not wanting to see the fanatic heat in Phasma’s expression. She could feel it clearly enough through the Force. ‘Well, I’m going back to the feast. You can do what you want,’ she said.

Phasma nodded and went over to her bodysuit and armour. ‘I’m going back to my ship. Don’t get in the way of my mission here, Jedi.’


End file.
